


you and I might not be the best thing

by ellisaco



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:46:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellisaco/pseuds/ellisaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is sick and Nick takes care of him. Well. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and I might not be the best thing

"Nicholas, I'm sick." Louis whines down the phone, and he does sound truly pitiful. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, love." And he is. Louis has been in America for two weeks doing whatever it is that boybands do in foreign countries (and, _honestly_ , he's dating a member of a boyband. When did this become his life?), and, therefore, Nick hasn't gotten laid in a grand total of 15 days. To say he's not exactly thrilled about it would be an understatement, and, well, he had plans for Louis' return. So, he's regretful for that, yes - but also because, when pressed, he'll admit that's he's a bit fond of the kid. 

"Come take care of me." Louis says, all pouting insistence. 

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't help you there, Lou. I can't catch cold, the breakfast show would fall apart without me, you see." Most likely. Probably. Okay, Moyles would just have fill in for his timeslot, but that's basically the same thing as the show falling apart, right?

"I swear to fucking God, Grimshaw, if you're not over here in -" Louis cuts himself off with a violent-sounding coughing fit. In between hacks he manages to get out what sounds like 'never going down on you again'. And, well, there's nothing quite like the threat of withholding blowjobs to get a man moving.  

"Think I've had a change of heart, I have." Nick says as he grabs a jacket and his keys. 

"Change of heart my arse." Louis grumbles. 

Nick hangs up the phone with promises to be over within an hour, two max. Louis doesn't appreciate the sarcasm. 

Nick arrives at Louis' house and turns his key (oh God, _his_ key) in the lock. "Honey, I'm home." he calls out, only to be greeted by silence. 

He finds Louis in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, wearing trackies that look like they've seen better days and drowning in one of Nick's jumpers. With eyes red rimmed, skin pale, and hair a mess, Louis also looks like he's seen better days. 

"I hate America for giving me this bloody flu." is the first thing out of Louis' mouth. 

"I'm pretty sure that's not how the transfer of viruses work, you can't -"

Louis groans. "Do you ever shut up?"

"Not really, no. I do get paid to talk, if you remember." Maybe he doesn't, actually. Maybe he's not lucid. Should Nick be asking him his name and the date?

Louis presses the palm of his hand against his temple, eyes shut. "Will you fix me a cuppa?"

Nick hums in agreement and heads to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He comes back a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand, and passes one off to Louis. 

Louis takes a tentative sip, because the idiot can never wait for it to cool properly, and immediately frowns at the mug. 

"What is this shit?" Louis asks, wrinkling his nose. God, would a thank you be too much to ask for? 

"It's your horrendous Yorkshire tea, darling." 

"Oh, it's horrendous alright. What did you put in here?"

"Cream and sugar?" Is that not what one usually puts in tea?

"We've been together for 6 months and you still don't know how I take my tea? Why don't you call up one of my fans, I bet any one of them could tell you. Jesus, Nick."

Oh. Well, shit. 

"Momentary lapse of judgment?" Nick says sheepishly. (Sheepish, really. Since when is sheepish an emotion in Nick Grimshaw's repertoire?)

Louis' face scrunches up in disgust - of the tea or of Nick, he isn't sure. Probably both. He pushes the tea away and brings his knees up to his chest, closing his eyes. 

"Remind me again why I put up with you." 

Nick snaps his fingers a moment later, remembering. "A touch of cream, no sugar!" 

Louis looks, if possible, even less impressed. "You don't get points for that. You probably texted Haz."

"I have not! My phone is over there in my jacket."

Louis goes on as if Nick hadn't spoken. "Maybe I should date him instead, _he_ would never bring me wonky tea."

Nick sighs and gets up to fix Louis another cuppa. Louis only breaks out the threats of leaving him for Harry when he's especially annoyed, and Nick isn't in the mood for a proper row - not when there's no chance of makeup sex - so his safest bet is to disengage. 

Nick brews a new cup and watches Louis carefully for his reaction as he takes a sip. His eyes are shut and his expression remains impassive, and Nick knows this just means that he's not going to give Nick the satisfaction of knowing he made it right this time around. 

After a few minutes of pointed silence, Nick finally breaks. "Well, is there anything else I can do?" He pauses, thinking. "I could suck you off." 

Louis cracks an eye open long enough to give Nick a withering glare. "No."

Well, Nick isn't used to that response when offering up unselfish blowjobs - though, one could argue that's because Nick has never before offered an unselfish blowjob. He figures this must be one of Louis' games that he's so fond of playing and that Nick normally has no patience for - but the bloke is sick, so Nick will play along this once. 

He slides to his knees on the floor in front of Louis and is getting his fingers under the waistband of his trackies when Louis' eyes fly open and he pushes Nick away roughly. 

"I said no, you wanker!"

Oh. _Oh._

"And by no, you meant -"

"I meant _don't_ get on your knees and start pulling my trousers down. You see, Nicholas, when a lady says no..."

"Okay, okay." Nick suspects that Louis is just refusing at this point out of stubbornness, but he's certainly not going to _beg_. 

He picks himself up and settles back into the couch. 

"You're pretty shit at this." And, okay, Nick can't very well disagree with that, but he's not going to reply in the affirmative. Louis lets out a heavy, resigned sigh. "Just - hold me, yeah?"

Well. Nick figures there's no way he can screw _that_ up. 

Louis sets his tea on the table and shifts under the blanket of Nick's outstretched arms, resting his head in the crook of Nick's neck. Nick runs a careful hand through Louis' destroyed quiff, fingertips massaging gently. 

"I really am sorry you're sick." says Nick quietly. 

"Hmm." Louis hums noncommittally, but he doesn't sound angry anymore. Mostly he just sounds really tired. Nick squeezes his arms tighter around Louis' torso. 

Not twenty minutes later, Louis' breathing has evened out and his hand has gone slack around Nick's bicep. Nick knows he can't let Louis stay like this for long - his neck would hurt something awful when he woke up - but for now he's content to just let the poor, exhausted kid rest.  

And, hypothetically, if Nick were to have a sappy moment and push Louis' fringe aside to drop a kiss on his forehead and then say I love you - well, it would be okay, because nobody would be around - or conscious - to witness it.


End file.
